Possessed
Mushrooms The sickly glow of the mushrooms that dotted the Dark Forest were often quite repulsive. The light seemed to have a pulse, and made the mushroom look like it was breathing. Most considered that horrid. As for Tigerstar, it was his only real companion. The fallen Shadowclan leader took interest in the foul-smelling fungi, how the light pulsed and quivered beneath the mushroom it was trapped inside of. The dark brown tabby had tried multiple times to claw the mushrooms to shreds, to free the light trapped inside, but it would simply flicker and die; much to Tigerstar's annoyance. Nonetheless, he was mesmerized by how pretty the light was. Sure, the mushroom itself smelled like crowfood left to rot in the greenleaf sun, but that light made it all worth it. Sighing, Tigerstar slowly got up, his legs stiff from being in a crouching position for so long. He trudged through the slimy, peaty earth, his paws remaining unusually clean. Why not visit my old friends in Shadowclan, he thought with a smirk. I'd love to see how Blackfoot- I mean, BlackStar is doing running my Clan. The dark brown tabby began to walk, the tall, dark trees replaced by pines, and the peaty earth replaced by soft dirt and fallen needles. He slowly padded into the camp, watching as the cats went about their daily routines, oblivious to him. That's when he noticed a little kit, only a moon old by the looks of it, playing by himself. He was gray-brown with a bright orange underbelly, much like Firestar's, and white tabby stripes. A wicked smirk appeared on Tigerstar's face. Oh, he was going to have fun with this kit. -- Nightmares A small gray-brown, white, and ginger tabby cautiously stalked through the dense, marshy terrain, it was dank, dark, and absolutely terrifying. The tabby suppressed a shudder, but his soft kit fur stood on end. He had no idea where he was. What is this place? It's gross, and smells like rotting crowfood! The small tabby inched onward anyway, as if an unseen force was whispering in his ear, commanding him to keep going. The tom's pale green eyes flickered with fear, and he flattened his ears. I wanna go home... A cracking twig caused the tom to snap his head around, his limbs frozen like they were made of ice. He could hear heavy pawsteps; and they were comming right at him. The tabby tom shrieked in alarm, willing his legs to run, but they refused. He was glued in place. The pawsteps got louder, loud enough to challenge the noise of the blood roaring in his ears. Suddenly, a dark figure with the longest claws the kit had ever seen crashed into him, pinning him with little effort. The tabby tom struggled, and looked up at the attacker. A cold amber gaze met his, and the cat smiled, his teeth dripping with blood, eyes glittering with malice. The mysterious cat lunged for the kit's neck, and he jolted awake, his heart pounding, the blood still roaring in his ears. The kit looked around; he was in the nursery, next to his mother's belly. Sighing with releif, he noticed his mom looking at him, her eyes glittering with worry. "Hollowkit, dear, are you al-AHH! Hollowkit, what happened to your eyes!?" Hollowkit blinked, but then glanced down at a small drinking puddle, doing a double take. His eyes were no longer a pale green, but were dark gray, with a blood red iris. He squeaked in surprise, burying his face in his mother's belly fur. What is happening to me? -- Voices Hollowkit awoke from yet another nightmare, the tenth one in the last four moons. He sighed, clawing at the moss in frustration. Why do I keep on having dreams like these? Is Starclan trying to tell me something? His mother, Brackenstrike, was snoring softly, and his sister, Antkit, was fast asleep, her front paws gently pummeling Brackenstrike's belly. Hollowkit got up, shaking moss out of his pelt. His eyes glittered with amusement when the flyaway moss landed in clumps on his sister and mother, making it look as if they had been having a moss war. He stifled a mrrow of laughter, skittering throught the Shadowclan camp to the Dirtplace, making his dirt and scuffling soil over it. Only one more moon until me and Antkit are apprentices, and only one more moon until we're stuck picking ticks out of the elder's fur and gathering moss for bedding. Hollowkit padded back to the nursery, when a strange voice sounded in his ear. It sounded smooth, almost comforting. What it said, however, was anything but. 'Don't fret, young Hollowkit. I will guide your pawsteps, and train you to be the best warrior you can be. All of your soft-hearted clan-mates will bow before your skill and power. Hail Hollowstar!' Hollowkit yelped at the loudness of the voice at the end, and swore he heard other voices chanting along with the one in his head. He shook himself to clear his thoughts, before returning to the nursery, curling up into a ball with his tail over his nose. That cat....he sounded so familiar. And why did he call me 'Hollowstar?' I'm only a kit, for Starclan's sake. *Sigh* Oh well, maybe I just need sleep.... And with that, Hollowkit drifted into the dark embrace of sleep. -- Hunting Techniques ------------------------------------ Hollowpaw's eyes glimmered with pride as his Clan recited his apprentice name over and over. He held his head high, relishing in the glares the kits gave him. His sister, Antpaw, was just as proud, and their mother, Brackenstrike, was probably about to explode with pride. Hollowpaw's mentor was a senior warrior named Nettletalon, and his sister's was a younger warrior named Yarrowheart. A deep, rumbling purr sounded deep within Hollowpaw's subconcious. 'You are doing well, Hollowstar. You will soon live up to the name I have given you. You shall rule Shadowclan with an iron paw! Hail Hollowstar!' Hollowpaw twitched his whiskers in surprise, but ignored the voice. It was time for hunting. He padded out of the camp, following Nettletalon, her beige fur sticking out in strange angles. This will be great. I can't beleive I thought being an apprentice was all about being a slave for the elders! Hollowpaw heard the voice in his head make a silent remark. 'Hmm...slaves...what an excellent idea! Once you're leader, you could have your warriors be your slaves! Ooh, it's brilliant!' Wanting to slap that voice in his head, Hollowpaw continued on behind Nettletalon, almost bumping into her when she stopped walking. "Ok, Hollowpaw. We're going to be practicing some hunting techniques."